THE DAY
So I woke up, fretting again and with a raging case of heartburn, in the middle of the night. Took some meds, let the husband try and talk me down. Everything that I’m worrying about–from the deck leak to the book–are cat door problems. They’re not life or death. Before we left Wisconsin, the husband and I talked about prioritizing worries. I forget what we decided the piddling ones were; middling problems are cat door problems, and I’m not even sure now why we called them that. But they’re middling. Then there are the life and death problems: you know, bankruptcy, organ failure, cancer, stuff like that.
The book is a cat door problem. It’s big, but it’s not worth losing sleep over. But I can feel this whole insomnia jag and heartburn starting to really wear me down. Even I get tired of being tired, and you’re talking to someone who was a surgery intern.
As you can imagine, the day wasn’t as productive as I would’ve liked. I got work done–and it sure feels like I wrote more than the numbers suggest–but I was tired and uncomfortable, and then I broke off in the middle of the day to keep an appt. and then go to the gym. Tried to work again when I got home, but I’m just too flipping tired. Boy, I sure hope I get some sleep tonight. I know this weekend is going to be a zero words weekend, which means I should be a wreck by Monday night.
So nothing more amazing to report. I’m kind of in a downward spiral here, so it’s best to just get some rest and hope for a better day tomorrow. But there are just these days when you feel like breaking the damn monitor. (One more stupid gripe: my fucking hair. I just don’t understand why it seems to be so damn difficult for people here to get how to do the same color. I’ve even given them written instructions from my previous stylist. But no one seems to get it here. They can’t even do a decent cut. It’s not bad, but it’s not what I’m used to. See? I told you: stupid problem. This doesn’t even rise to the level of a cat door. But I’m also tired of looking half-assed and paying for the privilege, too. On the other hand, since the husband never notices one way or the other–he honestly doesn’t–it probably doesn’t matter.)
Man, I am in a terrible mood.
WRITING OUT LOUD
Dark Side of the Moon
Day 1: 4326 Day 11: 2500 Day 21: 1800 Day 31: 745
Day 2: 2085 Day 12: 500 Day 22: 0 Day 32: 0
Day 3: 3011 Day 13: 1000 Day 23: 2700 Day 33: 4000
Day 4: 2652. Day 14: 3700 Day 24: 3500 Day 34: 2800
Day 5: 3210 Day 15: 5630 Day 25: 1500 Day 35: 4500
Day 6: 3450 Day 16: 1060 Day 26: 0 Day 36: 4800
Day 7: 0 Day 17: 130 Day 27: 0 Day 37: 0
Day 8: 2756 Day 18: 0 Day 28: 380 Day 38: 450
Day 9: 4580 Day 19: 3000 Day 29: 390 Day 39: 1000
Day 10: 2670 Day 20: 2600 Day 30: 380 Day 40: 2500
Day 41: 2600 Day 51: 1000 Day 63: 4800 Day 73: 1500 (edit)
*Day 42: 830 Day 52: 1600 Day 64: 3300 Day 74: 250 (sick)
Day 43: 3600 Day 53: 2600 Day 65: 2500 Day 75: 3000 (edit)
Day 44: 5000 Day 54: 3600 Day 66: 1200 (edit) Day 76: 2500 (edit)
Day 45: 2600 Day 55: 3200 Day 67: 1000 (edit) Day 77: 2500 (edit)
Day 46: 3000 Day 56: 4000 Day 68: 3000 (edit) Day 78: 2000 (edit)
Day 47: 2800 Day 57: 1200 Day 69: 1000 (edit) Day 79: 2000 (edit)
Day 48: 2500 Day 58-60: 0 Day 70: 1000 (edit) Day 80: 4300 (edit)
Day 49: 1000 Day 61: 3500 Day 71: 1500 (edit) Day 81: 1000 (edit)
Day 50: 4600 Day 62: 3000 Day 72: 2500 (edit) Day 82: 2000 (edit)
Day 83: 1500 (edit)
Day 84: 2700 (edit)
Day 85: 1500 (edit)
Blog Post: 570
***
What I’m Wathing:
Justified.
***
What I’m Reading:
Still slogging through Troubled Waters. Almost done.
***
What I’m Listening to:
A complaining cat. I’m sure he’s telling me about his cat door problems.
